


“Why now?”

by AutisticWriter



Series: Omovember [7]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Dangan Ronpa 3: Future Arc, Desperation, During Canon, Fear, Friendship, Gen, Humiliation, Omorashi, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Swearing, Urination, Wetting, omovember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: As if being stuck in a killing game wasn’t bad enough, Ryouta has to deal with a full bladder.[Prompt 7: Unable to locate a bathroom]





	“Why now?”

This is a disaster. A total fucking disaster. Ryouta keeps running this single thought through his head as he wanders through the hallways of the partly-destroyed Future Foundation base, hunching forwards as though that might stop someone stabbing him. Anxiety throbs through him, the sort he hasn’t felt since he was held captive by Enoshima all those years ago, and Ryouta isn’t sure if he will throw up or faint first. All he knows is he has to find a place to hide before this time limit runs out, lest he be murdered in his sleep.

Seriously, this is a total disaster. They are fucking Future Foundation, but they somehow managed to get gassed and surrounded by creepy monitors and they all have these bracelets on their wrists that will kill them if they take them off or break their forbidden action and Monokuma, that awful evil fucking bear that is basically the mascot of despair, came onto the screen and laughed and – shit, they’re all going to die, aren’t they? After all, Bandai and Yukizome are already dead, and someone else is bound to die soon and…

Ryouta gasps and wraps his arms tighter around himself, trying to calm his breathing. He grips his cell phone, an object he can use to protect himself except he can’t because using his talent is his fucking forbidden action, and he hunches forwards and shudders for breath.

He manages to calm down enough to avoid a panic attack, but he still wants to vomit. Ryouta straightens up and listens out for footsteps or signs of fighting – and then winces.

Straightening up puts pressure on something he had totally forgotten about: his bladder. Of course; before they all got gassed and passed out, Ryouta did kind of need to go to the bathroom. And he doesn’t know how long he was out cold, but he didn’t wet himself in his sleep, so he must still be full from then. He presses his fingertips against his lower abdomen, grimacing at the swelling beneath the skin. Yes, he hasn’t been in several hours, has he?

“Brilliant,” Ryouta mutters to himself. He’s already in a situation where people might murder him, and now he has to worry about his bodily functions.

He knows the layout of this place reasonably, so Ryouta turns around and heads back the way he came, knowing there is a bathroom quite near the meeting room. Now he has remembered his full bladder it won’t leave him alone, sitting heavy in his abdomen and sending jolts of discomfort through him if he moves too fast. He hates this; he went from one painful body thing (nearing a panic attack) to another (having a full bladder).

Ryouta grits his teeth, remembering this experience; back when he used to animate until he collapsed (and probably would have died if his imposter hadn’t taken it upon them to look after him), Ryouta hated taking bathroom breaks, considering them a waste of time. Many times, his imposter came around to find Ryouta either sitting in a pool of his own urine (having gotten so desperate he just wet himself), or a water bottle full of urine on the floor beside him. But he hasn’t felt this sort of thing in years, and he doesn’t miss it.

He trails back through the hallways, at one point having to duck behind some rubble and press his thighs together when Asahina runs past with Naegi on her back, trying to avoid Munakata’s blade. When he finally deems it safe to get up, the movement causes the slightest dribble and Ryouta winces, humiliated.

Eventually, he gets back to the meeting room doors, behind which two bodies lie on the floor. Ignoring this and whoever might be inside, Ryouta passes the double doors and winds around the next corner towards where he knows the bathrooms are located.

“Oh crap!” he mutters, bloodshot eyes wide.

Huge mounds of rubble barricade the doorway (it looks like part of the ceiling fell down), blocking him from going that way.

Now what is he going to do? These are the only bathrooms he can remember, and he can’t possibly trek the entire building in this state. Why is this happening, his fucking bladder leaving him vulnerable to attack from anybody? He has to urinate somewhere, or he’s going to end up wetting himself.

So, his face burning, Ryouta walks up to the rubble, glances around and faces away from the monitor (because Monokuma said this is all being broadcast). And he pulls himself from his clothes, aims and… nothing happens.

“Fuck,” he groans, gritting his teeth. “Why now?”

Why is he getting bladder shy now? This only normally happens when he tries to use a urinal next to another man.”

“Come on,” Ryouta mumbles, prodding himself hard in the abdomen. “Please…”

But, despite his painfully full bladder, he can’t go. Ryouta sighs, willing himself not to be pathetic and start crying, and tucks himself back into his pants. This is ridiculous; how can he be so desperate even breathing feels awkward yet not be able to piss?

What is he going to do?

Not wanting to look like a sitting duck, Ryouta wanders back the way he went in the first place. His muscles are starting to cramp with the need to urinate and he still wants to throw up, and Ryouta thinks karma must hate him for what happened with Enoshima.

A huge thud (which he later learns is part of the damage from Great Gozu and Sakakura’s fight) makes Ryouta jump, and he clamps his hands between his legs as another dribble escapes him. The thuds get louder and closer, and he breaks into an awkward run, the discomfort bordering on actual pain.

Ryouta crashes into a room and shuts the door, leaning against it. He hunches forwards, grimacing in pain, and he grits his teeth. The sounds aren’t getting any closer, but that isn’t enough to calm him down. Because they could still come near at any moment, and he is still painfully in need of a bathroom but unable to find one and—

“Hey there,” someone says, and Ryouta jumps.

He lets out a pathetic shriek and lurches to the side… and before he can stop it, he lets go. Urine pours out of him, soaking through his underpants and crotch of his pants, and Ryouta gasps as he pulls his penis from the wet fabric and aims at the floor near his feet. His breathing shuddering, he braces himself against the wall as he pisses, and it’s only then when he remembers someone is in the room.

“Wh-Who’s there?” he calls, wanting to cry at the thought of one of his colleagues finding him having just pissed in his clothes and now pissing all over the floor, totally humiliated.

Footsteps echo through the sounds of urine splattering against the floor and Ryouta’s panting breaths, and Kizakura Koichi steps out of the shadows.

Thankfully, he averts his eyes as Ryouta continues to empty his burning bladder right in front of him, and neither of them say a word. When the stream of urine finally ends, Ryouta trembles as he tucks his penis back into his now sopping underpants and wet pants, wanting to cry.

“Okay there, Mitarai?” Kizakura says, adjusting his hat.

Ryouta stares at him, trying to catch his breath. “I’m s-so sorry about that, Kizakura. I thought this room was empty. You see, I couldn’t find a bathroom and then I heard noises and your voice made me jump and I started wetting myself and—”

“It’s okay, I get it.” Kizakura steps closer, avoiding the puddle on the floor, and places a hand on Ryouta’s shoulder. “I recommend taking your underpants off and going commando. And, seriously, everyone pisses themselves at some point, you know. To be honest, I think everyone stuck in a killing game gets a pass. See you later, man.”

And Kizakura wanders out of the room, waving over his shoulder.

Ryouta stands there in wet clothes, eyes stinging with tears, and groans, slumping against the wall.

This is horrible, and he has a feeling things are only going to get worse.


End file.
